


As You Were Sleeping

by Dia



Series: The Many Deaths of Loki Laufeyson [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Peggy Carter, Canon Compliant, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:26:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4982749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dia/pseuds/Dia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve, Tony, and Nick ask Loki for help keeping the Tesseract from the (returned) Red Skull.<br/>Loki, as usual, reads too much into the request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As You Were Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeaceHeather](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeaceHeather/gifts).



> Follows the Winter Soldier, Ant-Man, Age of Ultron, and TV Agent Carter, first season.
> 
> (And part 1 of the Many Deaths of Loki Laufeyson, in which the Avengers figure out Loki was on their side all along)

 

 

“We’re trying to figure out why the Tesseract transported Red Skull when he picked it up, but not Nick here,” said Tony to Steve, plopping down on the next chair.

Ignoring Tony, Steve continued to sketch an outline of the New York skyline on the sketchpad on his lap. If he could only suggest the way the light reflected off glass….

“It’d be safe to have the Tesseract back on earth if we could figure out what happened when you were on that plane,” said Fury, coming to stand on the other side of Steve’s chair. “Shipping the Red Skull off to another realm every time he tried to steal it would be an effective booby-trap. We wouldn’t even need to guard it.”

“So the question is, when is it armed and when is it not?” said Tony.

Steve continued to sketch, his pencil shading the rough paper.

“Care to shed any light on these matters, Rogers?” Nick asked quietly.

“I thought it was killing him,” Steve finally said, “and judging from the screams Red Skull thought the same. I have no idea how it works. Did anyone ask Thor?”

“We did,” said Nick, “and he said to ask you what happened. He did not know how the Tesseract could be operated inadvertently and he couldn’t answer any of our questions.”

“And if you did succeed in arming it, as you put it, what’s to stop it from sending anyone in the lab into another realm? Or any one of us, whenever we tried to move it?”

“That could be OK,” said Tony.

Both looked at him.

“We’d just summon Loki and tell him to go get the guy. He just travels wherever he wants between the realms, doesn’t he? Tell me you haven’t lost the knives he gave you.”

“Think he’d do that, just on our asking?” Nick was skeptical.

“He would,” said Steve, “but it’s still a bad idea. Can we test the Mind Stone instead?”

“Yeah, but that particular pet rock belongs to the Vision. I’d hate to have to ask him to give it up.”

“All our work was calibrated for the Tesseract,” said Nick.

“You still should’ve left it in the ocean,” replied Steve. “And, no, let’s not ask Loki for any help. I’d prefer not to ask the guy for any favors – he tends toward overkill. Think about what we’ve seen so far: Thor starts a war with Jotunheim, and Loki tries to blow the place up. Red Skull offers his Chitauri army to this Thanos, and Loki gets the mortals to nuke it….”

“To save Thor’s pets? Maybe by Asgardian standards. He wrecked my tower, anyone remember that? And how many people died right here, in my city?”

“Loki probably thought that he was saving Thor’s favorite anthill; it wouldn’t have occurred to him that he’d have to save each individual ant. By his standards it was a success. He got both the Tesseract back to Asgard and the Mind Stone away from Thanos….”

“…only to drop it into the friendly loving hands of Hydra….”

“Was that his fault? He couldn’t know we were going to lose it.”

“Who’s we, Kemosabe?”

“Boys,” said Nick Fury, with authority. “Drop it. I admit that everyone in Asgard seems a little unclear on the concept of collateral damage, but I still think we need to talk to Loki.”

“Without waiting for Thor to come back,” said Steve, still unwilling.

“Hell yes,” said Fury. “I want to hear what he has to say without Thor babysitting him.”

“To the extent he can. Remember he swore an oath not to talk about anything until Thanos was in Asgard. That includes the Tesseract.”

“How about giving Loki my dad’s files, and asking him to point if there’s anything there we should follow up on? The old man did test the damn thing until Hydra aka SHIELD mothballed it, just so that Roxxon Oil could keep trashing the planet.”

“Or Carter’s files,” mused Nick. “My staff went through Howard’s files back when we were building Phase Two but they were all holes. I’m now guessing Hydra had something to do with that. But Carter always kept her own records. Wasn’t Carter doing surveillance on your plane when Red Skull got himself transported?”

“We were in radio contact, that was it. Fury, with all due respect, I went down in 1945. Pilots didn’t even know what they were bombing unless they had a visual.”

“I take it there’s no black box for me to take apart.”

“Tony, it was a Hydra plane. It’s not like Red Skull was compliant with Federal aviation requirements.”

“I’d still like to pull her files,” mused Nick, “See what’s there.”

“All that shit is on paper and all those paper files are upstate,” said Tony.

“Then I guess that’s where I’ll be,” answered Nick. “Falcon still up there?”

“No, he’s on the West Coast,” replied Steve. “Said he had to see a guy.”

“Odin still asleep?”

“For all we know,” replied Tony. “Thor said he’d seek answers in Asgard, but he didn’t say anything else about it.”

“You still think Thor is holding out on us?” asked Steve. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“No,” replied Nick, “I just think Loki can be more of a resource that Thor will give him credit for. It’s not about trusting Thor. It’s about trusting Loki.”

“That’s not the point.”

“That is exactly the point. We’re in the 21st century now, Cap, flat hierarchies are in. Hand over the magic talisman, let’s draw the pentacles on the floor, start the summoning….”

“Enough,” said Nick. He turned on his heel and strode to the glass doors leading to the landing pad. “I’ll be taking the Quinjet.   Since we’re not inviting Thor to this little séance, I think it’s time to test the secure room in the upstate facility. You want to come, step lively.”

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 

At first nothing happened. Frowning, Nick struck the sterling blades against each other quickly, drawing the same blue spark; but that was all.

“Told you we needed to draw a pentagram. Maybe we should try black candles or sacrifice a cute animal or something….”

“Shut up, Tony.” Nick struck the blades against each other again. The sharp, musical sound did not resonate far in the small windowless auditorium in which they stood. After it died away Steve and Nick and Tony just stood there, looking at each other in uncomfortable silence.

And then before them the air shimmered gold, then green, then the image of Loki flickered into solidity before their eyes.

He looked better than he had when they had last seen him in Seattle: the armor more gleaming, the black hair more lustrous, even the green seemed a richer velvet. But his dead white skin was as pale as ever, and his vivid alien eyes glittered in light of the underground halogen lamps as if they were chips of glass.  

He looked around him and, evidently realizing that they were in a place protected from Heimdall’s vision, let a thin smile touch his lips.

“What troubles you, mortals?”

“A question that you may well not be able to answer,” responded Nick, “but we thought we’d try you anyway. It’s about the Tesseract.”

“Speak.”

“You know that Red Skull’s still after it – and that we need it back from Asgard if we’re going to use it to develop clean energy.”

“Assuming that you will actually use it to create energy and not weapons….Continue, please, do not let me disturb you.” And Loki smiled.

“As I was saying, though, if we have it on earth we’re going to be running the risk of the Red Skull trying to grab it.”

“You have no need of me to know this.”

Steve finally found his voice. “Here’s what we need to know. When Red Skull grabbed the cube with his gloved hand during our last fight in 1945, he activated it. It transported him to another realm, yet it stayed behind.”

Loki nodded.

“When Fury here grabbed it in the NASA dark energy lab with his gloved hand, when you showed up, however, it didn’t do anything. Loki, when it is armed and when isn’t it? And how can we tell?”

“Clever question. I confess I had not expected to find the mortals so observant. In its natural state it will respond to a thought willing escape, as it did during your last battle. I turned it off when I arrived upon Midgard.”

“But the energies released blew up the lab.”

Loki just nodded.

“You didn’t!”

“Shit!”

“Loki,” said Nick, “from now on, no more killing, no more coercion, no more theatrics. Hydra kills people to show off their power. We do not.”

“The Tesseract creates a great deal of energy in the course of its operation. Beyond that, as you have already guessed, I am not at liberty to say.”

“Oh, come on, Loks, you can’t leave us hanging like this,” said Tony.

Loki only smiled. It was not a nice smile.

“Look like we’re up a creek without a paddle.”   Steve turned to Nick.

But Nick simply held out two plain manila folders to Loki.

“Two humans knew about the Tesseract before Hydra locked it away,” he said. “One tested it, and I’ve got his notes right here. The other was in radio contact with Steve’s plane when the Red Skull activated the Tesseract; this is her file. If you can tell us if they were onto anything, we’d appreciate it.”

Loki looked at the files. “Paper. How quaint.” He opened his hands.

Both files slipped gently out of Nick’s grasp and, floating free, opened by themselves. Individual pages fluttered out, arranging themselves in a levitating circle around Loki.

“You wish to speak to these two?” he asked, looking puzzled. He did not touch any of the papers floating around him, and seemed to take them all in in a glance. “One of them is dead.”

“Killed by Hydra,” responded Nick. “The other is dying and has already slipped into a medical coma. We can’t ask her.”

“Is something wrong?” Another gesture from Loki, and the files reassembled themselves but continued to hover. Loki was looking at Steve.

“She and I had a date,” he answered, staring at the ground, “when I went into the ice.”

Loki said nothing.

“She was going to teach me how to dance at the Stork Club.”

“You miss her,” Loki said at last.

Steve nodded.

“And she has information you need now,” added Loki, looking at Nick and Tony. “Very well. I make no promises, for what you ask is difficult. However, I shall do my best,” and he flickered out.

The files fell as if they had been dropped. Peggy’s file spilled a bit on the floor, revealing a newspaper clipping concerning a train wreck in Switzerland in the early 1950’s. Cap knelt to pick up the loose pieces of paper.

“What, did you expect him to just read shit, and say, yeah, they were on the right track, see this paragraph here, or something?" said Tony to Nick. “Guy’s a magician. I’m looking forward to this.”

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 

In a time and place that was neither a slim dark figure shimmering in green and gold appeared to stand before an indefinable presence, at once vast and unseen, dark and yet glittering with infinite stars.

The figure held a glowing blue box, strangely constrained by writhing black lines and throbbing with invisible power, and spoke. “Lord Kronos…”

“Spare me your lies, Loki,” responded a voice that was not a voice. “I care not for your honeyed false words. You would use the Casket to alter the time-stream, and you crave my blessing lest it go amiss. Tell me instead by what rights I should help you.”

“You loathe the Casket, for the gem within may force you to act against your will.”

“And contrary also to the order of the universe as set by great Eternity and Infinity. Knowing, this, then, why are you here? For as you hold it, you may use it whether I will or no.”

“Lord Kronos, as yourself said just now, the time-stream may go amiss. To use the Time Gem without your wisdom is to run the risk of paradoxes and evil outcomes that defeat the very purpose for which one alters time.”

“Even if I were to use my influence to limit unforeseen consequences, what influence have I among the other guardians of reality? I am but one among many. Do as you will, and see what comes of it.”

“I beg your indulgence, Lord Kronos; your influence is greater than you imagine; your wisdom more respected, your power more absolute, as indeed it should be …”

“As I said, spare me ….”

“I jest not, nor is this empty flattery. I seek to alter the course of time for one purpose, and one purpose only: to accomplish only unselfish ends, to find answers that may yet save a world, to reward virtue, fidelity and patience. I swear to you I seek not to alter my own record by a hair's breath, or to help myself or my own race in any way; what I ask of you is little enough….”

“You seek to restore to the living one who has entered the kingdom of Mistress Death herself; why should I risk her anger?”

“That I swear to you I do not, Lord Kronos. What I seek is unique; I ask merely to adjust the life of one mere mortal, not to add to her years, but merely to skip them such that her life is more nearly co-extent with others. I do not seek to bring anyone back from the dead – merely to accelerate one natural span of years so that it runs concurrent with a different century. I must alter the time-stream to accomplish these ends, however; and to ensure there are no paradoxical or unforeseen consequences I beg your aid.”

“And what will I get in return, should I render you this service?”

Loki held up the Casket of Ancient Winters.

“When the opportunity comes, I shall do all in my power to destroy this. And you know that for one of my kind that is no light boast.”

It was no more possible to ascribe any particular movement to the presence than it would be to discern gestures on the part of a black hole, but it reacted. Loki did not alter his pose of supplication by a hair’s breadth.

Presently the voice that was not a voice could be heard again.   “It may be that you can accomplish this, where others may not, being what you are. Therefore in exchange for your promise, I will aid you. And know that my favor extends to this one mortal life only, so that there may be truth in what you say, whatever your real intent.”

Loki bowed his head, every elegant line of him suggesting submission and acceptance.

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 

She had felt almost too bitter to ask, but she was Peggy Carter and if she didn’t know something she had to find it out.

“Why Lucerne?” she asked Howard Stark over the crisp white tablecloth in the posh midtown Manhattan restaurant where he had insisted on taking her.

“Lucerne and Zurich,” he had explained, “Bankers’ towns. Last place in the world someone would expect a Communist to take a vacation. ….”

“Howard, has it occurred to you that perhaps there are certain moments I don’t care to remember?“

“Fondue in Lucerne was always going to be with me, OK? Steve never even heard of it.”

“You’re still being inconsiderate.”

“Inconsiderate? I’m offering you a hell of an expensive vacation, Peggy. You’re traveling first-class all the way through the one country in Europe that’s not in ruins. You’ve got reservations in the finest hotels, private cabins on the most modern trains, first class seating on international flights. I’ve got all the tickets right here – train, plane, you name it,” and, reaching into his coat, he pulled out a fat envelope and tried to hand it to her.

She didn’t lift a hand to take it, so he laid it on the table next to her knife.

“In case anyone’s watching you’ve just tried to bribe me.”

“Which would be better than what they are going to accuse you of, Peggy. The one thing I’ve got going for me is that I’m too much of a rich bastard to be a Communist sympathizer.”

When she still didn’t pick up the envelope, Howard sighed, and leaned over the table. “This McCarthy jerk’s not going to last long, Peggy. He’s a blazing alcoholic in addition to being a blazing asshole but his next target after the State Department is going to be the SSR, and no-one there is more vulnerable than you. Remember how easy it was for you and the 107th to infiltrate a Russian base and come back with a Russian secret agent?”

“He wasn’t Stalin’s secret agent,” said Peggy, “he was Leviathan’s.”

“McCarthy and his goons aren’t going to know the difference, and wouldn’t care if they did,” growled Howard. “And what with the Senate’s investigation into why my bad babies seem to go so wrong so often my influence here is taking a hit. Take the paid vacation; you deserve it.”

She still didn’t move. A waiter discretely substituted a full Scotch glass for the empty one at Howard Stark’s elbow, hovered for a moment over Peggy’s untouched wine glass, and withdrew.

“Peggy,” said Howard, and this time there was more pleading in his voice than she thought she’d ever heard before, "you – and everyone else in the SSR who brought in that Russian spy – are under suspicion.   Even Thompson. You heard Sousa, didn’t you? Guy loves you, but he needs you to cool your heels somewhere else until this McCarthy guy blows a gasket, which I’m actually sure he’s going to do sooner rather than later."

Slowly, deliberately, she took a cigarette out of her bag, fitted it to her cigarette holder, and lit it. She hated smoking but she'd taken it up in spite of herself because it gave her one thing guaranteed to make her feel better.

"Do us all a favor, Peggy," Howard pleaded. "Take a break. Capitalism is your friend, Peggy. Take the bribe and go vacation with a bunch of bankers.” He stood up.

“Where are you going?” asked Peggy. “What about your dinner?”

“Going to cancel it on my way out,” said Howard, getting out of his chair. She noticed that his refilled glass was already empty. “But stay and eat. I’ve given the restaurant carte blanche, Peggy. This is on me, along with the trip to Switzerland.” And with that he was gone.

Peggy looked at the envelope. She had to admit he was right. Sousa had also recommended that she take an extended vacation. He was doing the same on the West Coast, he told her, visiting family, and it had been clear from the tone of his voice that she was not invited. Even Thompson had discovered he had SSR business that required an absence from the office after they'd received an order from D.C. telling them to stop investigating evidence that Hydra had survived the war and might even have infiltrated Operation Paperclip.

And so she tucked the envelope into her handbag, and, feeling as if she had no other option, ate the dinner Howard had ordered.   Maybe it was true, as Dum Dum had said, that she wasn’t fun anymore; maybe it was true, as Thompson had said, that they couldn’t be too careful; maybe it was true, as Sousa had said, that it was better that he sound out his relatives in advance before he invited a foreigner and a suspected Communist to meet the family.

Or maybe it was just true that try as she might there really was no place in the post-war world for Captain America’s old sweetheart.

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

           

Howard had not lied, at least not about what was in the envelope, she thought, as she leaned her head back against the paneling of the charming dining car. It had been something to fly as a passenger instead of a paratrooper, and to have her own private cabin on the train instead of a wooden or metal seat, but still.   She had nothing to do, nothing to learn, nothing to watch or wait for, and so far she had found her forced vacation more tiresome that answering the phones, pouring coffee, or filing papers at the SSR had ever been. Stiff upper lip, she told herself.   Still, up to this point, the sheer mechanics of travel – getting to the plane, stretching her legs as the plane refueled in Ireland, flying onto Zurich, catching her train, watching the dramatic countryside flash by as the hours to her destination counted down, unpacking by night and packing by day, adjusting to the jet lag – had been a blessed distraction by themselves.

But what on earth was she going to do in Lucerne once she got there?

She shut her eyes, trying not to feel, trying not to think, trying to concentrate on the rhythmic soothing motion of the train as it rumbled on. Smoking was allowed on the train, of course, but it was a filthy habit that she knew she should break. Steve hadn't smoked, she reminded herself, and he wouldn't have wanted to her to do so, either.

Then the train stopped.

Not with a jerk, not with sense of slowing pace that meant they were approaching a station, not with any sound of screeching or grinding or any other noise. Just a stop. Then complete silence. She opened her eyes.

Everything looked exactly the same, even the views from the windows; especially the views from the windows, it occurred to her, since the train was no longer moving. Nothing in the sunny, grassy meadow outside the window suggested any reason why the train should have stopped here.

She looked around the dining car, but none of the other passengers appeared to have noticed. Then she looked a little more closely and realized that none of the other people were moving either; each appeared frozen in place -- the couple at the other table rigid and unmoving in the act of toasting one another, the waiter clearing another table stopped in the act of picking up a plate, the train employees in their uniforms halted over their meal at the end of the car.

But she could move, she found; she reached out and picked up her glass of water, took a sip and put it back down. She sat up, looking around, trying to fathom what could possibly be happening.

Then she saw one other living being moving on the impossibly still train. A man, quite pale with long dark hair and wearing one of the most outlandish fancydress costumes she’d ever seen, was walking through the dining car towards her.   To her amazement, he approached until he stood opposite her on the other side of the narrow train corridor that ran between the tables, met her eyes and smiled.

Then he sat down at the empty table, put his fingertips together, and began speaking to her in crisp English.

“Please do not be alarmed. I have merely stopped time for a bit, simply to prove to you that I can. Everything will start up again as soon as our conversation is finished. May I ask you your name?”

“Peggy Carter,” she managed, “and who or what are you?”

“We will come to that. First there is something of which I must be sure. Please forgive me, for the question is a bit of a personal nature. Did you promise to teach Steve Rogers how to dance at a bird club?”

She stared at him, bewildered, the tendril of a forbidden hope rising in her heart.

“Are you asking me did I promise Captain America a date at the Stork Club?”

His smile broadened. “Yes, that was the bird, thank you. Did you?”

“You’ve talked to Steve since his plane went down,” and this time she did not try to calm the beating of her heart.

“I should hope so; it was a while ago, in fact ….”

“Where is he? Can’t you please tell me that?”

“That’s a bit complicated.”

“Please, Mr….”

“Call me Loki.”

She stared harder. “Are you…..one of the Norse gods?”

He smiled changed again – bemused this time. “We have been worshipped by the mortals as gods, yes.”

“Is Steve in Valhalla?”

This made him laugh. “No, nothing like that. Let me explain. Captain Rogers and certain friends of him need to consult you concerning the threat posed by the Red Skull….”

“But the Red Skull is dead. Steve killed him with the Tesseract.”

“He is no more dead than Captain Rogers. The Tesseract merely transported him, that is all. He has managed to come back, and …”

“When?” demanded Peggy Carter. “It would be all over the news if that happened.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” said the stranger, sounding aggrieved. “All this takes place in the 21st century. Captain Roger’s plane was frozen in the ice for seventy years. I’m traveling here from your future….”

“You are from the future? But are you not one of the gods of the Vikings? From the Middle Ages?”

He sighed. “I said it was complicated.”

She forced herself to be calm. She suddenly realized why no-one else and nothing else in the train car had moved while they were talking.   “You control time.”

“No,” he said decisively. “I have some limited ability to alter time, and I have stopped time here, and now, to demonstrate that to you.   Do not ask me to redo the major events of your history or mine, however. I cannot kill your Hitler; I cannot even alter my own past, or undo what I have done. But I can bring you forward to the time when Captain Rogers battles the Red Skull again, and I have come here now to do that. Do you understand?”

“Steve is fighting Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull, in the 21st century,” said Peggy slowly, trying to take it all in. “And you can bring me there? So that I will see Steve again? Soon?”

He smiled again. “Yes. You will come, will you not?”

“Of course! What do I have to do?”

“Merely follow my instructions; they will not be difficult. This train is due to crash in a couple of hours. According to the news story in your file, you managed to uncouple the rest of the train from the locomotive shortly before the crash, thereby limiting the scope of the disaster. Nonetheless, many people died. I can cast an illusion that will make it appear you are one of them; then you will come with me…..”

“Loki, can we stop the crash altogether? Save everyone’s life?”

The stranger in the fancydress stared at her, his dark brows knit in concentration over his bizarre brilliant eyes. “Are these people not the compatriots of Zola? Are they not your enemies?”

“They’re civilians! Loki, the war is over. In any case I would not want to kill everyone in Switzerland just because Zola was Swiss.”

He looked apologetic but puzzled. “As you wish. I shall inspire the engineer to double check the brake mechanism; that should do it. How then should we explain your disappearance?”

“I think the train passes over some deep rivers on the way to the Brunig pass. Would it serve our purposes if I were to throw myself from the train while it was over one of them?”

“Yes, but why would you do that?”

“I’ll leave a suicide note.”

“Are you not a hero of the mortals’ last war?”

For the first time in what felt like years Peggy Carter wanted to laugh. “Not to these people, they’re too afraid of Communism.” Seeing Loki’s baffled expression, she added, “So the 21st century sees the triumph of capitalism?”

“I hope Captain Rogers knows of what you speak, for I have no idea. However, I shall do as you bid me. Open the doors at the end of this car when you wish me to come get you, and when I see you I shall cast an illusion. After we are certain that the other mortals have seen it, I shall conceal you from mortal eyes and transmit both of us forward in time and in space, for I must return us to New York. However, that last bit is a simple question of teleportation.”

“If you say so. All I need to do is open the door to the train car? As if we were at the station, even though the train will be moving?"

He nodded.

"And you'll fix it so that the train doesn't crash, and that no-one will die. Except me, of course, but that will be .....an illusion? This is magic?"

"Exactly. You must leave the casting of the illusion to me...." Then his expression changed, and he added, “I realize that I have not given you any proof that I am taking you to Captain Rogers.”

“Oh but you did, you see. I’ve never told anyone about that dance at the Stork Club."

“That is my good fortune, then.”

He stood as if to leave and she quickly said, “just to clarify – I open the train door, but I never actually jump.”

“Of course not. I can’t fly.”

Then he simply faded from her sight, dissipating like smoke in a shimmer of gold and green.

She was suddenly aware the train was moving, without any sense that it had started; the waiter before her still calming clearing the table, the couple toasting his war record pouring themselves another round of champagne. Did I dream that? she wondered to herself.

But hadn’t Loki said that he’d make the engineer check the brakes? And wasn’t there a table of train employees sitting right there?

She stood, stepped into the dining car aisle, and marched up to them. One, then another, of the uniformed personnel looked up as she drew near.  

“Thank you all so much for this wonderful train ride. It’s thrilling, really. Maybe a little too thrilling, all these huge drops and narrow hillsides.” She smiled nervously. “Are you sure we’ll be safe?”

“Oh yes,” said an older man, in good English. “I double checked the brakes at the last stop. Good thing I did, too. We needed to replace a split EP connector. You’ve nothing to worry about miss.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I am so pleased to hear it.   This landscape is so dramatic! When do we cross the next gorge, can you tell me?”

The man checked his watch. “In about twenty minutes,” he said.

"And about how far is the Brunig pass?"

"Several hours, miss," said another. "It's a-ways."

“Oh thank you again,” she told him, and went back to her seat to think.

He must have fixed it before he ever spoke to her …. except that he manipulated time. He’d gone back and fixed it after he’d spoken to her – but before she ever saw him.

And he was one of the Norse gods. Johann Schmidt had believed in the gods; at least, he believed in the power of the gods, and that he could take and wield that power.

If that was true, what else could be true? Her head spun. Red Skull had thought he could gain for himself the powers of the gods; possibly he had done so, and this Loki was at his beck and call. Loki had mentioned he had no way of getting her to trust him. Possibly by telling her this Loki had meant to indicate to her that he was working for Red Skull; quite possibly he was warning her that he leading her into a trap, and she would find herself Red Skull's hostage.

If that turned out to be the case, then she would just have to rescue herself. She was sure she was capable of that.

If there was the slightest chance this could mean she would see Steve again she would do it.  

She wrote a quick, heartful note, addressed it to Sousa, and left it on her seat.

Then she took down her suitcase, slung her handbag over her arm, went into to the end of the traincar, and stood in the metal bay where the door would open to a station when they arrived.

As she stood there it dawned on her that she hadn't specified the river gorge over which he would work his magic. It might be the next one, or the one after it, all the way to the Brunig pass. She cursed herself for being a fool.

Assuming this wasn't a dream, of course, and that she wasn't standing here with all her luggage until they reached the last stop, just waiting to be hauled off into an insane asylum in Switzerland as soon as the train conductor found her note.

Well, at least that would solve the problem of what she would be doing with her time in Lucerne.

Opening and leaning out into the window set into the steel door she watched the mountain landscape flash by until she could see far ahead of her in glimpses between the trees a delicate steel bridge gleaming in the sun. With some effort she found she could get the door open. She let it swing almost shut, using her handkerchief to block the lock, until the shadows of the trees disappeared from the window and they were over the gorge. Then she swung the heavy door open, looking out over the river far below, disappearing between steep densely wooded hillsides into a distant green valley. The train seemed to hover, shuddering as it chugged along.

The air shimmered beside her, and a familiar figure materialized. She breathed a huge, silent sigh of relief; either she wasn't crazy or she was crazy all the way through. Either way she might see Steve again.

“You’re bringing your luggage?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just … should I include your suitcase in the illusion of leaping to your death?”

“Please don’t bother.   The Swiss are famous for their efficiency, but I’m sure they’re not quite so thorough that a missing suitcase and handbag will convince their police I didn’t kill myself.”

“Very well….”

He stepped back, looked her over, and then with a curious gesture appeared to toss something out of the open train door.

She saw herself leap into the void, screaming, and fall, spiraling in the air until she disappeared far below. Up and down the train she heard windows open, and people yelling; and even as the train passed beyond the gorge, she could feel it slowing (no doubt as the engineer applied the brakes) but even before it came to a complete stop she heard shouts in German and French about a woman who had fallen and needed to be rescued.

“See, these are not Zola's people," she said to Loki, "but nonetheless now would be a good time to disappear."

He smiled, and held out his hand. “I quite agree…..”

There was a change – swift but violent, as if everything in the universe had turned over – and she felt rather than saw a horizon of stars such as was never seen on earth, pulsating banks of light, clouds of galactic gas glowing with the colors of a universe. She felt an incomprehensible sense of movement, spinning among scattered vivid rainbow lights on all sides, and then daylight and a sensation of falling.

She managed to get her suitcase under her to land on it as she spilled onto a hot, sunlit tarmac. Catching her breath, she stood up.

And stared.

There, almost at eye level, was the Empire State building; there, also, close, on the other side of her, she saw the steel gargoyles and graceful silver spire of the Chrysler Tower.

Around her familiar landmarks, but new buildings as well, fat and thin spears of glass and silver and bronze, gleaming in the sun. She could hear the familiar sounds of traffic far below.

New York! New York, in the future! She was in New York then; high up, on what looked like a small circular aircraft landing field, integral to the towering complex of some new, strange building (was that Penn Station far below her? It was, wasn't it?) and all around her the familiar, altered skyline, new buildings of what looked like pure glass and steel, some beautiful, others ugly, all the new metal and new windows sparkling in the sun. Her city of stone and brick had been transformed into one of glass and steel. Was the air clearer than it usually was on a hot day? It was, wasn't it?

Behind her, glass doors in a glass wall; within its lit interior, two men – one white, one black – were standing in the middle of a circle of floating blue screens.

Neither of the men was Steve, she saw to her disappointment. However, Loki had said he was taking her to him; so they surely would know where he was.

She picked up her suitcase, slung her handbag over her shoulder, and walked toward the glass doors.

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *         

 

“No, we should be testing the Tesseract upstate,” said Rhodey to Tony. “This new place is in the middle of fucking nowhere, OK? Let’s take advantage of the fact. Less shit for you to blow sky high.”

There was the distinct sound of a knock on a glass door.

“What the hell?” said Tony to Rhodey, both looking at the smiling woman in the old fashioned nylon dress with a suitcase who raised her hand to knock again.

“You answer the door. It’s your house.”

"Not anymore."

"Knock it off, Tony. Besides, not everyone knows that."

So Tony answered the door. “Um, who are you and how did you get up here?”

She put down the suitcase just inside the threshold and held out her hand with all the enthusiasm of a salesman. “Peggy Carter. And you are?”

“Tony Stark.”

“Any relation to Howard Stark, the inventor of the flying car?”

Tony stared harder. “He was my father. He never did get the cars to fly though.”

“Yes, I noticed a distinct absence of flying cars out there. Now, if you’ll be so kind, can you tell me the date, including the year?”

Tony told her, and added, “but are you looking for Howard? Because he’s dead. In fact, he’s been dead for years. How did you get here?”

“Bit of a strange story that. Actually, I’m looking for Steve Rogers. Do you know him?"

She had the most indescribable look on her face when she said that, thought Rhodey. Part anticipation, part amazement, part fear. And now that he could see her in more detail, he realized that she was wearing the oddest dress: a trim, light-colored blouse with a tight, cinched waist, v-neck, with a wide full skirt and a cardigan.

Tony looked at Rhodey, and Rhodey looked at Tony. “He's still here, isn't he?" said Tony to Rhodey, "I mean Sam went off to the West Coast on some fool's errand, but....."

"Tony," said Rhodey, "shut up and go get Steve, will you? And for Pete's sake, will you prepare him? Because this is going to be a hell of a shock."

Tony shrugged and took the stairs.

When he was gone Rhodey stepped forward and offered the woman a seat in one of the new, more comfortable chairs that Pepper had picked out as part of her efforts to refurbish the Avengers’ mansion. "Please sit down, Miss, you look like you might faint."

"Thank you," she said. To Rhodey's surprise, she took out a pack of cigarettes from her handbag, and looked about her, presumably for a lighter or an ashtray. When she couldn't find one she looked at him. "So no-one smokes cigarettes in the future?"

"They've been conclusively proven to cause cancer," he answered, "but you can smoke outside if you like. That's still legal."

At this she smiled and just put the cigarettes away. "That's still legal? You criminalize smoking?"

"Second-hand smoke," explained Rhodey. "Sorry, no, no-one smokes, not even in nightclubs like the Stork Club," Rhodey pulled out his phone. "Anyhow, seems like the Stork Club closed in 1964."

She blushed. "Did Steve tell .... everyone about our date?" And then, looking at the object in Rhodey's hand, "is that some sort of portable electric encyclopedia?"

"Kind of. It's connected to the Internet, which is a global network of computers. Gives us all access to much of the world's knowledge but most people use it just to look at cute pictures of cats and argue with strangers." Changing the subject, he asked, "you founded the SSR, right? And re-named it so that its initials spelled out Cap's shield?"

She smiled again, more broadly this time. "I didn't found the SSR. But I like to think I did have a hand in reorganizing it. And in renaming it, as well."

"People always said that if Dr. Erskine had given the serum to you instead of Steve, the war would've been over in 1943."

"Then people flatter me. But I have to ask. I see certain familiar New York landmarks out there. They're --they're the original buildings, right?" Upon his puzzled expression, she added, "they're not ....rebuilt? There was never another war?"

He shook his head. "That's one thing we managed to do - there hasn't been a nuclear war. Nagasaki was the last atom bomb."

"Oh thank god. And, segregation - is that ended?"

"Legally, yeah. In terms of how people behave," Rhodey shrugged, "schools are more segregated now than they were during Brown v. Board of Education. Supreme Court case from 1954? Has that happened yet?"

She shook her head. "My morning's paper said 1953. But can you tell me about Steve? How did he survive? And how has he come to command the gods?"

"So you met Loki," replied Rhodey. "We figured. It's a long story......" just as the elevator doors opened.

Steve Rogers, wearing a white T-shirt and those khakis he wore to the gym, strode into the room, Tony trailing behind him. Rhodey thought he heard Tony saying, "we haven't disturbed a dying anybody, Steve, it's not what you think....."

Steve stopped dead, staring at Peggy as if she was a ghost. Without getting out of the chair she turned towards him and smiled, almost painfully, her hands folded in her lap.

And there they stayed, merely looking at each other, Steve rigid and open-mouthed in surprise, Peggy smiling as if she were about to cry, in an uncomfortable and gradually lengthening silence.

Tony was the first to speak. "I told you it wasn't what it sounded like," he said.

Steve still didn't move. Neither did Peggy.

So Tony being Tony he went glibly on. "In fact, I was just about to tell you that I'd asked her out and she'd accepted. For fondue," at which point Steve turned around and planted a swift uppercut on Tony's jaw that sent him flying.

Rhodey had an idea that Steve Rogers, scrawny Brooklyn orphan, had never been able to hit anyone hard enough to hurt them. And Rhodey also had an idea that while this was no longer true for Steve Rogers, Captain America, the big guy who now staggered across the floor to collapse, crying, into Peggy's nylon lap probably didn't remember that. So Rhodey just crossed the floor to where Tony was struggling to sit up and, cradling him, whispered that maybe they should give these two some time alone together? And since Tony was in no position to argue, Rhodey, slinging one arm under his friend's shoulder, carefully hustled Tony off to the tower’s newly refurbished and extensive med lab (redesigned and reequipped by Dr. Cho) where he proceeded to give his friend first aid and a well-deserved tongue lashing.

 

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

 

 

Peggy kept stroking Steve's hair, waiting for him to calm down. Presently, as his sobs grew quieter and his breathing more even, she gently said, "you seem to have some very strange new friends."

"You have no idea." He sat up, blew his nose with the handkerchief she had given him (the same one she had just used to stop the train door from locking, less than an hour ago - or was that 70 years ago?) and apologized for his behavior. "Have you met the Vision?"

"Is that his name?"

"He's an android, yes, that's his name. Or was, I'm not sure what he is now, really. He used to be JARVIS, except that I think Tony's rebuilt JARVIS...."

"Edwin Jarvis? Tony rebuilt Howard's butler?"

"No, no, JARVIS is just a program, I think Tony and the others call him A.I. That’s artificial intelligence. JARVIS is an acronym. "

"It's also the name of his father's butler. A very nice man, but he must be dead by now." She paused. "Howard's dead too, isn't he? That man who said he was Howard's son just told me that."

"Years ago. Killed by Hydra, we think."

"So Hydra survived Red Skull......Thompson thought it might have."

Steve sat back on his heels and looked at her. She had been crying as well, and she did nothing to wipe the tracks of her tears away. Let him see that, she thought. He looked the same - a little older, a little more serious; but she could still see in that serious face and manly figure the earnest scrawny kid who had thrown himself on a grenade during training practice.

"You suspected?"

She nodded. "We do. But the great fear in Washington now is the Communists. And we need the skills possessed by the fascist rocket scientists. Better a race to the moon than that we blow each up.”

“We’ve gone to the moon. But we never went further into outer space, the distances are too far.” Steve paused. “But we’re now in touch with …. aliens. Space aliens. They visited earth before, and people thought they were gods. But they can teleport through space, through distances we can’t begin to cross with a rocket. We all thought he was crazy, but that turned out to be what Red Skull was talking about, and the Tesseract is the key to it all.”  


“Loki said Red Skull had returned from another realm, did he mean outer space? Steve, how have you come to command the very gods themselves?"

At this Steve grinned through his tears and said, "I don't. We had no idea Loki could do this. Seriously, Peggy, what did he even do?" And then a look of complete fear crossed his face. "You are really here, right? This isn't an illusion?"

It was her turn to smile. "As real as I'll ever be, although I feel like I'm living in a dream. Loki stopped time and said you were fighting Red Skull in the future and he said I could join you. Are we truly in the future?"

"Yep, we are. Some of its good - no more polio, no nuclear wars, can you believe that the public health hazard now is obesity, not starvation? Some of it not so good - plenty of regular wars, Hydra survived, and now Red Skull. Oh, and apparently all our piled up air pollution is slowly destroying the planet. We have to stop that, along with Hydra. And we need the Tesseract for that, but if Red Skull's back he'll be up to his old tricks and so we asked Loki how to keep it from him. But he can't tell us that directly, so Tony - you've met him- and Nick Fury and I asked Loki what you knew. And here you are."

"How do you command such creatures? Are they really the Norse gods?"

"I don't command them, we just asked Loki for his help and then he kind of did this on his own. Believe me, Peggy, if I’d know he could get you I’d have begged him to get you like a shot! Or gone to get you myself! Did Loki tell you about Thor?”

Peggy shook her head.

“Thor is Loki's brother; he got exiled to earth from Asgard a couple of years ago and then he and Loki had a fight in New Mexico and after that Thor said he'd help protect the earth. Loki then hijacked Red Skull’s plan to blast earth, so now he's here with Thor and they're kind of our allies. But none of us had any idea Loki could bring you forward in time."

"I'm wondering what else has changed," said Peggy. "You all seem to know me as the head of the SSR. I had a hand in changing the name, but Thompson runs it."

Steve blanched. "My god, you're right. If Loki is doing time travel anything could've happened. Let me see," and he pulled out his phone.

"Does everyone carry one of those?"

"Pretty much. They're too convenient, although I still tend to keep my notes in a notebook. Nope, you still found the SSR and fix the name, although Thompson hands it off the Alexander Pierce." He frowned. "You killed yourself? In Switzerland?"

"That was an illusion."

He looked up at her again. "But this is real. Right here, right now."

"Yes," she said, and before she knew it he had taken her in his big strong arms and kissed her, kissed her as passionately as he had when they were racing toward Red Skulls jet in the car only this one didn't end, he hung onto her and presently she hung onto him.

And eventually they both came up for air and then Steve went down on one knee, took her hand in his, and gravely stated, "Margaret Carter, will you marry me?"

And Peggy took his big hand in both of her own and thrilled to say, "yes, Steven Rogers, I will."

And then they kissed again, until Peggy needed to come up for air once more and said, "what's marriage like in the 21st century?"

Steve looked confused. "I'll tell you the truth, Peg. For the life of me I can't figure it out. There still is marriage but I can't tell when people think they should be married and when they don’t. The latest news is, it just became legal for fairies to marry each other if they want. Everyone thinks I should be shocked by that, but I never had a problem with fairies, and if they want to be together, why, I don't see why not."

"If the fairies get married, they'll have to tell everyone. In our day the polite thing was never to notice. I take it that's changed?"

"Yes. Also no one calls them fairies anymore, the term now is gay."

"And for lovers who aren't gay, I'm guessing there are new forms of birth control? Ones we never knew about?"

"You're right as usual, Peg. There's been a pill for a while, and now there's other stuff. You know how I am around dames." He grinned. "I'm not the guy to ask."

"Oral birth control would explain a lot about why people don’t feel compelled to get married. Do women still even take their husband's name?"

"If they want to, " said Steve helplessly. "But what I can't figure out is, what we used to call living in sin everyone now calls a committed relationship. Tony is living that way with a very nice young lady called Pepper, and Thor is doing the same with Jane, and Bruce and Natasha seem to be falling in love with each other but none of them seem to be even considering getting married at all. I really don't get it. They're not engaged even, they’re not married to other people, there's no reason why they can't be married, they're just not."

"But people can still get married if they actually do want to."

"Yes! But it's considered O.K. not just to becomes lovers first, but even to live together, before anyone gets married."

“That sounds like a good idea.” When she saw Steve wrinkling his brow at this idea, she added, “for people who aren’t sure whether or not they’re right for each other, I mean. Steve, your problem is that you were old-fashioned for 1940.   I shocked Mrs. Fry by telling her I’d been in Greenwich Village.” And the memory of it made her smile.

“Greenwich Village isn’t bohemian anymore. For some reason it’s very expensive. As is Brooklyn! There are rowhouses now that sell for millions of dollars.”

“What does a million dollars buy in the 21st century? Has there been inflation?”

“For a while, but there isn’t much inflation anymore. Generally I’ve found the money is more or less 10 to 1 – if a dollar bought you a nice lunch, $10 buys you one now.   But the food’s _different_ , Peggy. I went into a diner the other day and tried to order a plate of beans and a glass of milk, and the soda jerk behind the counter just looked at me like I had three heads.”

“So what did you eat?”

“A kale Ceasar salad. I still couldn’t tell you what that is, but it tasted O.K. Be careful, though. There’s an awful lot of spicy food out there, and if you’re eating Chinese everyone expects you to know how to use chopsticks.”

“So what’s come true? There are no flying cars, but are there ray guns? Jet packs?”

“Not really, but some of the mechanical stuff is amazing. Computers got super small _,_ and somehow they also got cheaper at the same time.” He pulled out his phone. “This thing has a _movie camera_ in it – and you can watch the movie on the little screen right after you film it. And then replay it as often as you want to.”

“I want to see everything! But, Steve, I want to see it with you.”

“And you will,” said Steve, and for the first time he seemed to notice that she was crying too. “Peggy, I…. I never got a chance to tell you. I never got a chance to say you were worth it. I wanted to be soldier, but only to try to stop bullies, not to romance all the dames I could get. You were it for me, Peg. You always were.”

“I know, Steve, I know,” and something in his voice made her want to cry harder. She was ruining her makeup, she was sure of it.   She had to snap out of it. “Red Skull didn’t believe in parachutes? It’s not that I’ve never seen you jump out of a plane.”

“I was exhausted, I couldn’t think, I made the wrong call. I had some crazy fantasy that if I didn’t put her in the water Red Skull had somehow programmed his plane to reach the target by itself. Believe me, I can’t begin to tell you how much I regret what I did.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“You know that’s not true. “

“Steve, I always had faith in you. I had faith before I fell in love.”

“And I haven’t been worthy of it. Hydra survived, Peggy. Everything I did – everything – including losing you, was a mistake.”

“Not everything,” and now she was smiling. “Because you haven’t lost me. I’m still here.”

“No thanks to me.” Now he was smiling too, through his tears. “I’m not going to stop until everyone in Hydra is dead or captured. Starting with Red Skull.”

“You won’t be alone.”   She stood, and glanced around her. "Also I suspect Howard's son will be wanting his viewing room back."

Steve stood up too, and offered her his arm. Because they were engaged, she took it.

Then he looked at her with those great big puppy dog eyes – 80 pound weakling or hulking Captain America, those eyes never changed, and God did it ever do her heart good to see them again – and said, quite serious this time, “Peg, one more thing. Let's not tell everyone we're engaged to be married, O.K? At least, not right away."

"Why not?"

"Because in the 21st century," Steve Rogers told his beloved Peggy Carter, "when two people come out of a closed room after being along together for a while and announce they're getting married, everyone's sure they just had sex."

 


End file.
